Lore, Keeper of Legends
by Miss Lilianae
Summary: There are many tales throughout the world of heroes and villains, some have been lost to history, and others are just beginning. Lore is a young boy from the Freljord who has always been inspired by heroes, join him on his quest as he travels Runeterra to find these stories and the Living Legends that exist in his world.
1. Humble Beginnings

Lore; Keeper of Legends  
Chapter 1: Humble Beginnins

Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends or any of the characters involved except Lore

Cold… that was all he could remember.

With a jerk, a young boy awoke as a small shaft of sunlight came over his eyes. He looked around the small cabin he found himself in before sitting up on the bed.

"Where-"

"Ah, I see you are awake!" A voice sounded across the room.

The boy looked over to see a large, mustached man with huge muscles was smiling at him from over a soup pot on a fireplace in the middle of the room.

"Where… am I?" He asked.

"You are safe, with me," The man replied.

"Who… are you?" The boy asked.

The man chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that made the boy feel safer.

"I am Braum, a humble goat farmer," he replied with a smile, "Now, who are you little one?"

The boy thought about the question for a moment, trying to remember his name, but nothing came to him.

"I… I don't know," he said after a few minutes of silence.

Braum sighed, "It seems the cold got to you more than I thought, do not worry little one, Braum will keep you safe until you remember who you are,"

"Thank you," The boy said as he climbed out of the bed. He joined Braum by the soup pot as the large man spooned out some of the broth into a bowl that he handed to the boy.

"Here you are, Eat! It will make you big and strong like me!" He flexed his muscles as The boy took the bowl. This made him smile.

Braum spooned himself some soup before the two began to enjoy their meal. After finishing Braum stood and walked to the front door of the small cabin.

"Where are you going?" The boy asked.

"I need to tend to my goats little one, I will be right back," Braum said as he opened the door.

The Boy watched him disappear outside and the door closed, but he was curious and quickly followed Braum out the door. As he stumbled out into the sunlight he had to shield his eyes. Before him was a large pasture with a multitude of goats. Braum was humming to himself as he made his way down the small hill the cabin was built on.

The boy followed after him but stopped as he saw Braum open and close a massive gate that led into the paddock that held the goats. The boy clamored up the fence post nearest the gate and sat on the top bar, watching Braum go to work. He sat their in silence for a while before a voice echoed to them from a distance.

"Braum!"

The two turned their heads toward the sound of the voice.

A man was running toward them, panting for breath. He stopped just outside the paddock and rested against the fence while he regained his breath.

"Braum!" He shouted again.

"What is it friend?" Braum asked as he approached from inside the fence.

"There's a boy, a troll boy, he's trapped!"

"Trapped?"

"Yes! A great door, in the mountains, he went inside and it closed behind him! We can't get it open!"

Braum looked to The boy sitting on the fence who spun on his seat and jumped down, walking over to them.

"I will help, just a moment," he said as he stepped up over the fence and down on the other side. "Show me this door,"

The man led Braum and The boy on a trek through the mountains before eventually they found themselves standing outside a large stone door, a depiction of a ram's head engraved in the stone face. A crowd of people were gathered around it milling about. Some of them began to whisper as they saw Braum approach.

He held a hand out for The boy to stop, and he waited while Braum approached the door. Grasping it with all his strength he tried to pull, but it was fruitless, the door didn't budge. He then tried to tie a rope around one of the horns on the door, and pulled again; nothing. Braum sighed with frustration as he sat down on a nearby rock.

"What will you do Braum" The boy asked.

"Let me think…" Braum said, more to himself to The boy.

Braum sat there for a few minutes, that eventually turned into hours, then days. As he sat there waiting the people would give him food as he thought about what to do.

"Couldn't you just break your way in?" The boy asked after the third day of waiting.

"No… the door is stronger than even I… but the mountain… it is not," He said with a smile.

He picked up The boy, "Friend! You have given me an idea!" he set him down before beginning to climb his way up the mountain and around to the other side. After Braum disappeared around the curve of the mountain the villages and The boy heard the sound of stone breaking, but after only a few minutes it stopped. Then a rumbling began to fill the mountain, the villagers panicked and ran back down the mountain toward their village, but The boy stayed, he wasn't going anywhere until he saw Braum. Eventually the top of the mountain collapsed inward which scared The boy.

"Braum!" He shouted, but was quickly covered in a barrage of dust and snow. When the cloud cleared he looked up and was amazed.

A single figure was approaching him, silhouetted against the cloud of dust.

"Braum?" he asked.

As it grew closer he recognized the features of Braum and smiled. The giant of a man appeared, with one arm he cradled a young troll boy, and with the other he held the giant door over his shoulder like a shield.

"Yes Friend, I am safe, and so is this little one," Braum smiled at The boy as he lifted the unconscious troll boy in his arm.

The villagers returned a few minutes later and saw Braum, The boy, and the Troll child. A troll woman rushed forward.

"My baby!" She shouted as she took the child from Braum's arm.

He and The boy smiled as they watched a mother and son reunited.

"What now Braum?" The boy asked.

He set his hand on The boy's shoulder. "We go home, and enjoy some Goat's Milk!" He laughed and The boy smiled.


	2. Living Legends

Lore, Keeper of Legends  
Chapter 2: Living Legends

Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends or any of the characters involved except Lore

The boy and Braum spent the next few years tending to Braum's goat herds in peace, occasionally a villager or two would appear to seek assistance, but their lives were generally left alone. As The boy grew older, he became crestfallen as he realized that he would not become like Braum. Where the legendary goat-herder was large, muscled, and an imposing figure, The boy was slight, thin, and more effeminate looking, but he was still only a thirteen, he hoped he had time to change things before it was too late.

He took this in stride though, and where Braum solved problems with his strength and a few clever ideas, The boy resolved them with his mind and quick thinking. The two were inseparable however, like a father and son, until one day…

Braum and The boy were working in the goat pasture when they both felt a presence approaching. It was unusual for them to feel something like this. Looking up from their work they noticed a large group was making their way up the valley pass that led to Braum's secluded home.

"Stay here," Braum told him as he walked over the fence and approached the group.

Being as disobedient as ever The boy followed quietly behind.

The pair met the entourage a short distance from the valley's entrance and once they were close Braum and The boy realized why they had sensed something: The leader of the band was a woman; thin, graceful, and in The boy's eyes: Beautiful. She carried herself with a proud, strong bearing, and both men instantly recognized the bow on her back made from True Ice. She gave them a moment before clearing her throat, drawing the two's attention from the bow back to her.

"I've come seeking a man named Braum, I was told he lives here," She said.

Braum nodded and bowed low, putting a hand over his chest and throwing the other one widely out to his side. The boy replicated the action a moment later.

"Please, there is no need for that here. I have to ask for your aid, not your service," she approached a put a hand on Braum's massive shoulder.

The boy noticed the incredible difference in size between the two as Braum stood and towered head and shoulder above this woman.

"What can I do to help you?" Braum asked her.

"My name is Ashe of the Avarosa tribe, I am seeking a united Freljord, but there are those who stand against our idea of peace and prosperity through conflict avoidance,"

The boy looked surprised at this, which drew a quick glance from Ashe, but she quickly returned her gaze to Braum.

"A peaceful Freljord would be a strong Freljord, a united one even better," he said after considering it for a moment.

"Exactly, please, I need your help if we are to succeed in our endeavor, your daughter will be welcome amongst us as well," Ashe said indicating The boy.

Braum began to laugh as The boy's face flushed.

"He is no child of mine, at least not bound by blood," Braum said as he wrapped a massive arm around The boy and pulled him close.

Ashe's mouth opened in surprise and shock as she realized her mistake.

"Please, forgive me, it is just, your features are…"

"I know, it is fine," The boy told her, "I'm glad to be included, and will do whatever I can to help,"

Ashe nodded and reaffixed a smile on her face. "I'm glad to hear that, and to count both of you as companions by my side,"

The next few hours were spent with Ashe, Braum, and The boy discussing in Braum's cabin of what they needed and their current issues, additionally the logistics of taking Braum's goat herd with them, since this would be a permanent move he couldn't leave them here, and the Avarosans sounded like they could use the herd more than Braum and The boy. After discussions were finished Braum, The boy, Ashe, and her entourage, now including Braum's goat herd, began to make their way back through the valley and down the mountains to the southern lands where Ashe's tribe had begun their attempt as peaceful civilization.

The boy would not see the journey completed.

As they travelled, a massive snowstorm began to creep over the mountain slopes from the North, forcing them to march in the near blinding conditions. Ashe had originally wanted to set up camp, but with the group as large as it was they needed to keep moving, and Braum had insisted that he and The boy would be able to keep up and still tend to the goats. As they travelled however the storm only grew worse, and eventually Ashe had to relent, she commanded everyone to set up camp.

The large company set their tents and Braum had managed to tie his goats together so that one couldn't wander without the rest, and they waited out the blizzard in uncomfortable silence, save for the howling winds outside their tent walls.

The next morning, the blizzard had finally relented and the company began to move once again, reaching the southern tribes by day's end they were welcomed warmly. Braum and The boy were given a small cabin as their new home with the Avarosan tribe, and they spent many years there assisting Ashe as best they could, at least until The boy was of age. Many had come to know of the nameless boy that followed Braum. He had become known as a storyteller, as he traded tales of Braum's many exploits with tales of Ashe and her legendary bow, but once he was old enough he thanked Braum and made his own way, claiming that he would never be of use to Ashe as he was now, he would need to grow stronger, and if he hadn't already done so with Braum, perhaps his fate lie elsewhere.


	3. Trial By Ice

Lore, Keeper of Legends  
Chapter 3: Trial by Ice

Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends or any of the characters involved except for Lore

The Boy continued his climb up the mountain, it had been three days since he'd left the Avarosan camp, seeking out an ancient legend he recalled from his childhood memories. Stories told of a powerful weapon that rest at the top of the tallest peak in the Freljord, and he was going to find it and bring it back to Ashe.

That is, if he could make it back to Ashe. He held up a hand to shield his face from the freezing winds, his arm was turning blue from the cold, but still he persevered. He knew he wasn't as strong as some of the other warriors, but he wanted to do his part, and he figured that if he couldn't even do this, he wouldn't be useful in any other way. Suddenly a howling wind pushed against him, forcing him to stop else he be thrown off balance.

"Please, Anivia, mistress of the cold, relent your northern winds and allow me to pass…" He said aloud, hoping that somehow, his prayer would be answered.

The wind picked up even more, nearly toppling him over, but he remained firm and took a staggering step forward, planting his foot firmly in the snow covered ground. He took another step, and then another, the entire time the wind howled around him, trying to topple him from the peak.

"Just… a little… further…" he said to himself as he continued to push forward.

It wasn't enough though, as his vision began to darken and his limbs began to weigh more and more heavily with each passing moment. He didn't realize it, but he was dying. His vision was so narrowed it was like he was staring at the end of a tunnel, the howling wind around him was quiet as he continued to try and move his limbs. He collapsed in the snow, but didn't feel anything. His left leg twitched in a command to try and continue walking, but his body was too weak, and he simply lay there, unable to continue.

Suddenly The Boy jolted awake, he looked around and found himself in a small chamber, a fire crackling warmly nearby, he was laying in a bed with thick, wool blankets covering him and exuding warmth around him. He looked around and took in more details of the room: It was made from carved stones, and a solid wooden door was situated at the far end of the room from him. He threw back the blankets and strapped up his boots that were laying beside the bed. He threw on his tunic and buckled it into place before throwing his cloak around his shoulders. He walked to the door and opened it slowly.

"Ah, you're awake," A voice said to him.

The Boy looked past the slight crack in the door and saw an armored figure standing beside the doorjamb.

"Yes… where… where am I?" He asked.

The man nodded, "Makes sense you don't remember. You were blue with frost when we found you." He explained. "You're safe now, you're in the fortress of the Frostguard. We'll protect you." He answered.

The Boy's mind was racing, he knew of the Frostguard, the ancient cult of the Freljord, ruled by Lissandra, the immortal Ice Witch. She wasn't directly at war with Ashe and the Avarosans, but he knew that she would stand in the way of a unite Freljord, and the Avarosans had decreed that they were enemies to the Frostguard.

"I see…" The Boy answered.

"If you're up to it, the lady Lissandra wanted a report of your progress. She said to instruct you to her chambers if you were to awaken."

The Boy nodded and slipped out of the door, latching it behind him. He looked to the guard who nodded his head down the hallway. The Boy followed his direction and navigated a labyrinth of twisting, winding hallways, until eventually he was standing outside a large, stone door, carved with the symbol of the Frostguard.

"If I were to guess…" he said to himself before slamming a fist on the door.

"Enter!" A voice called to him from the other side.

He pushed on one of the two massive doors and it slid open silently. He walked forward, and as soon as he was clear of the door's arc, it swung shut behind him.

"Ah… the child on the mountain. Approach," The same voice told him.

He slowly made his way towards the raised dias at the far end of the room. Sitting on top of the throne situated there was a woman with ice-blue skin and a long, dark-blue dress. Her face and most of her head was concealed behind an elaborate headdress of the same material as her clothes.

The boy bowed from the waist once he was close enough.

"Please… no need to be so formal here," she said.

The Boy stood up straight and looked at the woman for a few second before she spoke again;

"Do you know who I am?" She asked.

"You are Lissandra, leader of the Frostguard." He answered quickly.

"Smart boy… do you know what happened to you?" She asked.

"I was trying to scale the mountain. There's a story in my village of a powerful weapon that lay at the mountain's peak. I went to retrieve it to help defend my village in case of attack." He responded.

The Boy knew he couldn't tell her his true purpose, to give the weapon to Ashe and the Avarosans. She nodded at his explanation.

"How very fortunate that my men found you then. We were also seeking this weapon, and we retrieved it," She explained.

The Boy perked up at this.

"Do you know what kind of weapon it is?" She asked.

"A blade encased in Ice, True Ice." He answered.

She nodded "How very knowledable. Your elders have taught you well." Lissandra shifted her position in her throne to lean towards The Boy.

"They have, please m'lady Lissandra. I know I am in your debt, but if I may ask one favor of you-"

"You wish to receive the blade of True Ice, to protect your village, is that it?" She asked.

He nodded.

"Very well. I shall let you have it, if you can wield it of course."

Lissandra stood from her throne and seemed to glide across the icy ground towards The Boy. She held out a hand and a blade of ice came flying from one of the far walls at the edges of the room. She planted it point first into the ground between them.

"You speak of the curse of the Iceborn?" He asked.

"You know of it?"

"I know that those who are not born as Iceborn cannot wield True Ice weapons. My intention was to use my life to return it to my village, if I was unworthy of wielding it," he explained.

"Such a courageous boy, and so devoted to your village… where did you say it was from?" She asked.

"It's at the base of a mountain far from here. I had travelled for three days to reach the mountain where your men found me."

She nodded at his words. "Very well. I give you my word that if you prove unworthy to wield this blade, it will be given to your village to defend it."

He nodded and reached out to touch the handle of the weapon. As soon as his fingers wrapped around the handle he began to feel an immense sensation of chill running through his arm, quickly spreading from his limb to the rest of his body. He was shivering with the cold in seconds, and he felt his arm losing feeling with the handle of the blade. He tried to grip it tighter but realized his fingers were so frozen they wouldn't obey him.

"Ah, how unfortunate," Lissandra spoke now, her voice coming from just over his shoulder.

He looked at her and saw her stand back to her full height. "It seems the blade does not choose you to be its wielder. Very well, a promise is a promise. I will have the blade given to your village. Rest now child, and embrace the cold."

The Boy struggled, his mind racing, he knew of a story where a non Iceborn warrior had wielded a weapon of True Ice in the past, and he tried to remember the details of how he had done it. Meanwhile the feeling of chill continued to creep up his body, reaching further and further. Now he couldn't feel the entire arm that had first made contact with the blade, he looked down and saw the fingers wrapped around the handle were blue with cold, and he knew it was too late for his arm. Even if he could remember the way the legendary warrior had accomplished the feat, he wouldn't be able to wield the blade properly with only one arm-

Then it hit him, the detail he had been so desperately trying to recall. He wrenched his arm from the blade, his fingers snapping free on the handle, then with a cry of defiance he swung his now maimed and frozen arm towards the blade of the sword with all his might, it cleaved through his frozen limb with ease, shattering what remained of it into pieces on the floor. There wasn't any sense of pain, as the limb had been numbed to the point where the receptors had died. He heaved with exertion as he looked at his now missing arm.

Lissandra began to laugh "My my! Did you know that would work? Or were you simply trying to escape your own demise?" She asked.

"My people… told of a story long ago… where a legendary warrior… chopped off his own arm… to wield an axe of true ice."

"Quite the Lorekeepers your people are," Lissandra purred the words to him. "I think that's what I'll call you. Your old life is over, you are worthy to wield the blade before you, with a new life that you have earned through sacrifice. I think a new life deserves a knew name… from this day forward you shall be: Lore, Keeper of the Ice and its Secrets."

Lissandra glided past Lore and resumed her seat on her throne. Lore followed her with his gaze before looking down at the blade still embedded in the ground. He brushed away the remnants of his frozen fingers from the handle and drew it all his strength, the blade slid free, and he had no experience of the frost that had claimed his right arm. He lifted it above his head and admired the way the light reflected through the ice that surrounded the ancient metal blade inside. Lissandra summoned a scabbard of Ice at his feet.

"You may use this, my champion, to store your blade when it is not in use."

Lore sheathed the sword before taking the whole thing in his free hand.

"You have a great destiny ahead of you Lore. I can feel great power emanating from you. I trust that you will put that power to good use?" She asked.

Lore nodded as he slipped the scabbard into the belt around his tunic. "With your leave Lady Lissandra, I would like to return home."

She nodded and waved a hand toward the doors, which both swung open to allow Lore to leave.

"You do just that my champion, show the world what you have accomplished here today."

Lore gave the ice witch one last look before turning on his heel and striving out of the throne room. Once the doors closed she sighed.

"The Boy is destined for great things, indeedly so, but at what cost to the Freljord must I pay for changing his fate in such a way. Perhaps, he'll be the key to finally ending this pathetic war, and with it, uniting the Freljord under my rule."

Lore held up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as the doors opened that allowed him to exit the darkly lit ruins of the Frostguard. He looked back to the guard who had first greeted him when he'd awoken and the man nodded to him before pushing the doors closed. Lore looked up at the sky, then around himself. He began to recognize landmarks from the stories he'd heard. He nodded to himself once he had a direction to travel. He took the now loose sleeve of his tunic, using his free hand and his teeth he tied it into a neat knot that would keep the cold out and prevent it from snagging on anything as he travelled. He wrapped his cloak tightly around himself before trudging off South-ward.

There were still things he needed to do.


End file.
